


Mchanzo week 2016

by Cibeeeee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, McHanzo Week 2016, Not Fluff, Tour au is inspired by the nightvale tour, background married mchanzo, crying mchanzo in some parts, dumb very dumb highschool au, writer and singer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8889811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibeeeee/pseuds/Cibeeeee
Summary: Day One: First Laugh"The sound was magnificent, and the reason for it was not."Day Two: Domestic Life“Is the arm giving you trouble?” Again? Hanzo added in his head.“Nah, I’m good, fucking fantastic, got everything under control.” Please help me, McCree pleaded in his head.Day Three: AURadio show writer Hanzo and the guest musician that joined the team on their live show tour around the world. Said handsome musician also cannot stop flirting with Hanzo.DAY 4: Role ReversalWhere a stranger with a peculiar choice of fashion try to convince McCree to rejoin OverwatchDay Five: Young Loveaka The Most Popular Girls in School au no one asked forDay Six: Ult SwapThere is consequence for using a power with another mediaDay Seven: Holiday SeasonThis is for all the ones that can't spend Christmas with the people they want. Merry Christmas





	1. First Laugh

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://cibeeeeee.tumblr.com/) and/or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spiciestcibee?lang=zh-tw) !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day one: First  
> The first time McCree seen Hanzo laugh 
> 
> The idea of McCree seeing Hanzo’s first smile (laugh in this case) was a sad and bitter one was drawn from  
> [this art by notcanonbutthatsokay](http://notcanonbutthatsokay.tumblr.com/post/152886914280/this-hanzos-voice-line-is-my-favorite-one-paul), thank you again to the artist for letting me write something from it!

Hanzo was an odd character. McCree could understand odd (some might even say he has no right of describing other people odd, as if McCree wasn’t using “odd” to describe something – someone – he liked), but Hanzo eluded him. Hanzo was quiet. Emotional and cold at the same time. Extremely talented. Kept to himself, but didn’t mind company if he didn’t have to talk. He never laughed.

Laughing wasn’t quite like smiling, not that Hanzo smiled a lot as well, nor were most of them genuine. But never _laughing_ – that was something that bugged McCree to no end.

McCree told himself, maybe it was because Hanzo had a peculiar sense of humor, maybe he didn’t enjoy McCree’s dirty jokes or Mei-Ling’s puns or Hana’s good punchlines. But on multiple occasions Hanzo would reply with some dry humor that shocked laughs out of people, even then Hanzo’s expressions never changed.

Maybe – McCree was giving this lot of thoughts – maybe he just never saw Hanzo’s laughs. Maybe the archer does laugh in private, in front of his brother, or with someone special (someone he trusted the sound with).

He asked around the team. People gave him odd looks for the question. “If anyone’s seen it, it would be you, right?” Lena asked. “You’re the one he hangs around the most.”

McCree walked away from the inquiry. The question surprised him, and the answer stung him.

McCree was so desperate in wanting to see Hanzo laugh, he wasn’t prepared when it actually happened.

The sound was –deep, throaty, breathless – it was like the petrichor of rain after a long drought that Jesse badly wanted to end.

The sound was magnificent, and the reason for it was not.

Hanzo kneeled on the ground with a wounded Genji in his arms. They were waiting for Mercy. McCree was inspecting for enemies when he heard it.

He turned around and saw Hanzo with a blank look on his face as he gazed at Genji. Another laugh came out, a short one, as Hanzo’s expression twisted into a grimaced smile.

“This is my fault, Genji,” Hanzo said. “If I…”

McCree’s heart dropped, starting to see what snapped Hanzo into this trance. The enemy detonated a small EMP bomb, crashing Genji’s system even before the fight started.

“Took out the machine,” the agent said into her radio, seconds before an arrow penetrated her temple.

Genji wouldn’t have been a target if he wasn’t half machine. Hanzo’s eyes said as he looked at his little brother.

McCree pressed his thumb to his comm, “Angela, I need you to speed up.”

Then he carefully knelt down beside Hanzo. The elder Shimada didn’t react.

McCree gently cupped Hanzo’s cheeks and turned Hanzo’s gaze away from Genji, willing his heart not to break at the wetness under his palms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was kind of funny to me when I heard a loved one laugh from despair, and how that laugh sound almost identical to their laughter from happiness


	2. Domestic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is the arm giving you trouble?” Again? Hanzo added in his head.
> 
> “Nah, I’m good, fucking fantastic, got everything under control.” Please help me, McCree pleaded in his head.

“Would you stop that?” McCree snapped at the tools in his hands that refused to cooperate with him even after almost eighteen years of fixing his prosthetics. The angle was just always off, and McCree could never dig the tiny tool into the joints correctly on the first ten tries.

“Piece of shit, should’ve left you in some dump long ago,” the idea was extremely tempting, and the only reason that was stopping McCree from doing so now was the band that was inlaid on the ring finger. Thinking about it now, it was probably a short-sighted decision, but he was always a sucker for traditions like that. 

McCree threw the tools onto the bed, stomped into the bathroom and out, picked the tools up grudgingly again. He needed his arm, he had a dinner date with Hanzo tonight…

Hanzo came back to their room just in time to see McCree grumbling some more colorful insults at his arm, digging around in it angrily.

“Is the arm giving you trouble?” _Again?_ Hanzo added in his head.

“Nah, I’m good, fucking fantastic, got everything under control.” _Please help me,_ McCree pleaded in his head.

Hanzo sat down by McCree and took the tools and the prosthetics. His fingers worked with ease.

“Thanks, darling,” McCree cooed. “You really are my knight in shining armor, or, uh, half of an armor.”

Hanzo threw a glare at McCree that made McCree laughed. He wrapped his right arm around Hanzo’s stomach and let his cheek rested on the man’s shoulder while watching him work.

“Where would I be if you weren’t here for me?” McCree murmured into Hanzo’s gentle heartbeat as he placed his lips on his partner’s neck. Nuzzling in and distracting Hanzo.

Hanzo tilted his head. “Perhaps in our room wrestling with your arm while I am enjoying dinner at your favorite restaurant.”

“Brutal, sweetheart…”

“You should start asking Doctor Ziegler for help. She was the one that always fixes your prosthetic before, was she not?”

McCree hummed for a bit, his stump grazed pass Hanzo’s lower back.

Despite the casual flirting he was known for, McCree kept his heart close to his chest, contrary to what people think…

McCree buried his nose in the crook of Hanzo’s neck. The faint, florescent scent of incense from his meditation session with Zenyatta lingered on the skin there. The warmth only added to the smoky aroma.

“Sweetheart,” McCree said, low. Voice almost as hazy as the scent. The ache of finally finding a love he longed for returning every time he thought of just how much Hanzo took up his heart now. “I think…I gave you all my trust.”

Hanzo finished fixing McCree’s arm. McCree placed one more kiss on Hanzo’s skin before raising his head. Hanzo reattached the prosthetic for McCree. Jesse wiggled his fingers, testing the reflex.

“Well,” McCree grabbed his coat on the bed. “We should get going.”

Hanzo grabbed his left hand, McCree turned around, raising an eyebrow.

“What is it, honey?” he chuckled. “Decided to stay in? Or you ain’t fee – ”

Hanzo cupped McCree’s hand in his own. Slowly, slowly, he raised McCree’s hand to his lips.

McCree closed his eyes as Hanzo’s kiss gently reached the band on his finger, and he swore he could feel it.

“As do I, loveliest,” Hanzo whispered.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to say that McCree doesn't trust his teammates, but not having is arm has to feel very vulnerable to him. If McCree lost his arm after he left Overwatch, he must have maintain it by himself during his run. After Recall, Mercy would probably help him with this, even if McCree isn’t completely comfortable with it despite her being his long time friend.  
> Hanzo is now, someone that McCree could completely open up to. Because for him, falling in love is opening up your chest and opening up your heart for someone to mess it up and trusting them not to (cliché, I know)  
> For someone like McCree and Hanzo, where they are hunted and glancing behind them every two seconds, trust is probably just as important as love, if not more.
> 
> If Hanzo isn't there to help McCree with his arm, he’ll probably do it himself instead of going to Mercy for help, it’s hard to go back to a friend who you are only somewhat comfortable with when you have a partner that you trust with your worse. 
> 
> (this got almost as long as the chapter oops sorry)


	3. AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Radio show writer Hanzo and the guest musician that joined the team on their live show tour around the world. Said handsome musician also cannot stop flirting with Hanzo.

“I trust y’all are having a good night tonight,” McCree laughed into the microphone. The crowd cheered, a few claps and words mixed in, too low to be heard properly. McCree looked over to the left side of the audience. “What was that, honey?”

“I said, tonight is good because I get to see you!” a girl screamed. Another wave of cheer and scream erupted from the audience.

“Aw, you sweetheart,” McCree cooed. The girl gasped, audible even to Hanzo behind the side curtain.

“Tell him to stop being such a flirt to our listeners,” Hanzo snapped at Genji, who just laughed back.

“My job isn’t telling our guest musician what to do, Hanzo. Maybe you should ask Satya to do that.” Genji checked his makeup in his phone reflection. “Or maybe, you just have to stop being jealous.”

“I am not jealous.”

“Right, and you probably don’t murmur Jesse’s name in your sleep as well.”

“I never do that!”

“How would you know? You’re asleep,” Genji cocked his head at his brother. “Besides, McCree isn’t the face of the show, no matter how popular he is. It’s us, so no worries about McCree flirting, right?”

Hanzo silently fumed as he continued to watch their guest musician for their tour chatting with the audiences. Which was completely normal – and if not better, but the cheers for McCree and his charming smile was overwhelmingly loud.

There were two reasons for their radio show’s management team to choose Jesse McCree as their world live show tour’s musician. Firstly: his songs featured on the show have been almost always the most popular, comments about the song were almost as many as the ones actually taking about the day’s show. Secondly: McCree has the ability to charm even the most stoic person until they were a puddle in his arm, why not use his charm on their listeners?

“Damn right, he even made Hanzo weak in the knees every time he comes to record,” Genji commented during that meeting, ignoring Hanzo’s glare he was sending from across the meeting table.

So it was settled, why not let their listeners finally see the face behind some of their favorite songs? Hanzo thought bitterly. A whole year travelling around the world, stuck with the charming singer that croons words out of his lips pleasantly low like cello notes. Who writes amazingly beautiful lyrics and melody that was nothing like the mainstream pop music that filled the market nowadays. Who could come up with a short song on his guitar right away if you asked him to…

Hanzo’s eyes glazed over as he got lost in his daydream of McCree singing to him, but snapped himself out quickly enough when the crowd screamed so loudly that it actually made Hanzo almost stumble onto the stage.

Hanzo regained his composure just in time for Genji to step onto the stage and into the spotlight. The screams that was just dying down suddenly flare up once more as the audiences saw Genji appearing.

McCree and Genji subtlety high-fived as the singer exited the stage. Genji turned to the crowd, putting up his host voice.

“Dear listeners, welcome to our show! I hope you are all…”

Genji’s voice was drowned out as McCree joined Hanzo’s side behind the curtain. Hanzo’s face was as blank as his mind when he felt McCree’s warmth beside him. McCree casually put his arm on the wall behind Hanzo as he too watched the performance that was going on.

“Never really got use to how happy people are when they see us,” McCree chuckled, the breath ghosted past Hanzo, warm and smelt of smoke.

Hanzo shot up straight, he could feel the goosebumps on his arms. Almost two months of touring with McCree and Hanzo still couldn’t handle the man.

“I’m going for a smoke,” Hanzo said abruptly.

“I’ll go with you,” McCree said, not moving his arm to let Hanzo leave.

Hanzo swiped his hand across where McCree’s hand was connected with the wall and the man stumbled forward with a yelp, narrowly avoid crashing into Hanzo, but still had to grab Hanzo’s shoulder to keep himself from falling over. On second thought, that probably wasn’t a good decision on Hanzo’s part, since now he was just staring at McCree’s warm eyes at an even closer distant.

“Darn,” McCree let out a breathless laugh. “Your skin is really smooth.”

Hanzo pushed McCree away from him. “Do not follow me, you still have three more songs to perform, and I prefer you don’t miss it.”

Hanzo ignored McCree’s calls. Satya will take care of McCree, stopping him from wandering off to look for Hanzo while he still had work to do.

Hanzo stepped into the harsh cold air that was a norm in Europe this late into winter and sighed into his palms. Just eight more months…

The show finished without a hitch. Which will never not have Hanzo letting out a sigh of relief when Genji said his final line on stage successfully, the crowd screaming as the light dimmed.

“You are always wound up tighter than a bowstring during the end of each show,” McCree chortled softly beside him. “Nothing ever goes wrong, you gotta relax.”

“You don’t know if nothing will go wrong until the end, McCree,” Hanzo retorted. “Shouldn’t you be outside signing your CDs now?”

“Relax, sweet cheeks, the show just ended!” McCree said. “Would you join me at the table?”

Hanzo opened his mouth, but Satya came out of nowhere and said that people are asking for Hanzo and Genji to sign their books and posters. McCree chuckled and pushed Hanzo to the exit.

“Looks like you have your stuff to do,” he said. “Go charm your readers, Hanzo. I’ll be waiting for you after.”

“For what?” Hanzo frowned and lingered, despite Satya telling him that Genji was waiting for him.

McCree shrugged, “Coffee?”

“It’s eleven at night.”

“Didn’t stop you a few days ago when I caught you ordering three shots of espressos to your room at two in the morning.”

“I was  _ working _ !” Hanzo gritted out, still embarrassed to think about McCree seeing Hanzo during one of his frenzy two a.m. writing sessions (featuring his reading glasses and hair in an incredibly tangled bun).

“And today could be for celebration,” McCree shrugged. “What do you say?”

Hanzo struggled to find words, staring at McCree’s sunny smile in the dim theater light. Wordless for the countless times since he met McCree, and was still shook that McCree was able to render Hanzo, someone whose entire career was built upon words and speech, completely dumbfounded.

“We can talk about it later,” Hanzo left before he could say anything more or hear McCree’s answer, but not quick enough to miss the fond sigh McCree let out.

Hanzo and Genji spent almost an hour talking to people, answering questions about the show, their book, and  _ will you guys come to my city? Will you guys keep making the show? _

It was almost as exhausting as working on their show, but Hanzo couldn’t deny that he would spend five hours talking to every single one of his listeners if Satya lets him. But after an hour, most of the crowd left and Hanzo found himself wandering to where McCree was still chatting with some lingering fans. McCree was half bent over the table and resting his arms on the surface.

Hanzo let out a soft groan. McCree swung around and grinned at him.

“Hanzo!” he pulled Hanzo to his side. “Are you finished?”

Hanzo took a look at the table and all of the CDs were gone. Which wasn’t a surprise, when Hanzo was talking with Genji he couldn’t help but notice how half the audience was in line for McCree, the queue winding all the way down stairs and hallways.

The girl McCree was talking to blushed at the sight of Hanzo. Hanzo smiled at her politely and she stuttered.

“Mr. Shimada,” she said. “I really like your show, and your writing! It inspired me to pick up a book after so many years of not reading novels. Thank you so much.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” Hanzo replied. “Thank you for listening to our show.”

The girl laughed, giddy and nervous, before turning back to McCree. “‘Only for yesterday’ is my favorite song from the show, I had no idea I would get to hear it live today, it was amazing!”

“Well, aren’t you a doll, thank you,” McCree winked at her, and Hanzo rolled his eyes.

The girl bid them a hasty goodbye and rushed away. Hanzo slapped McCree’s arm with the back of his hand.

“You scared her,” Hanzo said.

“What? No I didn’t!” McCree laughed. “She was smiling!”

“It was a polite smile.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was.”

“No, it ain’t.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Wanna get some drinks with me?”

“Yes, it – what?” Hanzo gawked at the grinning man.

“I heard a yes,” McCree tugged at Hanzo. “Com’on, Hanzo – I’ve been asking you since the start. We’re in Europe, in Rome, there’s still a bunch of café still open,” McCree held his hand and his gaze. “Join me?”

Hanzo’s mind blanked once again, at a loss of what to say once again. He looked at McCree and looked at the stony sidewalk outside, illuminated by soft yellow street lights and embellished by the soft crooning of violin in the distant. Who even plays the violins at midnight? Only in Europe, Hanzo thought. He looked back at McCree, still patiently waiting for an answer, and imagined for a split second, of him and McCree is standing close in the cold wind, warming their hands with a small cup of coffee or mulled wine (something Hanzo would probably never grow fond of), McCree leans in and softly  _ singing _ … and that image sent a sudden jolt down Hanzo’s spine, at _ how much  _ he wanted it.

“Okay,” Hanzo said.

“Okay?” McCree echoed.

“Yes,” Hanzo said.

“Holy shit,” McCree said.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing!” McCree scratched the back of his neck, all his suave instantly gone. He was blushing. “Just, took me by surprised, it’s all…”

Hanzo couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. 

 


	4. Role Reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where a stranger with a peculiar choice of fashion try to convince McCree to rejoin Overwatch

“I don’t know what beef I have with you, archer, but I have no interest of starting a fight here,” McCree murmured around his unlit cigarillo, not bothering to look at the stranger stood beside his table. McCree was too drunk to put up a proper fight anyways.

But if the man insisted, McCree would gladly put a bullet between his pretty eyes before the bartender sends his sixth glass of bourbon tonight.

“I do not wish to fight,” the man sounded frustrated. That was odd. McCree finally peered up from underneath his hat, and met the gaze of one of the most handsome man McCree ever had the pleasure to meet.

McCree’s eyes drifted down south and his eyebrows raised at the man’s choice of clothing, _a pleasure indeed…_

If McCree saw this man in the dingy bar drinking like any other normal customer, he would have struck up a conversation, maybe a little flirting, maybe a little bedroom eyes, just to see if he could get lucky tonight. Then they would go on their merry way with nothing but the pleasant thrum of a night well spent and good memories.

But it seemed the situation was a little more complicated. McCree didn’t know how the man found him (no one should be able to track him down if he didn’t want to be found), so the man was either extremely good or had help – or both.

“May I sit?” the archer asked, surprisingly polite for someone that looked like trouble.

“How can I help you, you darling thing?” McCree titled his head and smirked after the man took a seat.

The man had an unreadable expression on his face, not necessarily uncomfortable or nervous, but not completely indifferent either.

“Ah, where’s my manner,” McCree put down his glass with a soft click. “My name – ”

“I came to retrieve you, Jesse McCree,” the man said.

McCree snapped his hand to his gun. The man didn’t even flinch, not a single muscle moved.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Hanzo,” the man said. The name stirred something up in McCree’s sluggish, drunken brain, but not quite remembering anything at the moment.

“Full name, please, Hanzo darling.”

The corner of Hanzo’s mouth twitched, he looked unimpressed by the nickname, or that he had to give his full name. “Shimada Hanzo.”

Now that was a name Jesse recognized instantly. His hand dropped away from his gun as he groaned.

“You’re Genji’s brother,” McCree squinted at Hanzo, and took another big gulp of whiskey, suddenly hoped he had drank himself into unconscious a lot earlier today. “Why are you looking for me? How do you know me?”

Hanzo opened his mouth to answer, but McCree kept talking, while waving to the bartender for another glass. “Oh, don’t tell me you want my bounty money, I’m really not in the mood for that right now. I could also try taking you down, too, since the price for your pretty face is just as impressive – but I’d rather not. You see, I was, is, good friend of Genji, and I don’t think he’ll much appreciate me getting my hands on you before he did. For old pal’s sake, old time’s sake, y’know? Where the fuck is my bourbon…”

When McCree came back to himself, he realized Hanzo was staring at him with a mixed of surprised and disbelief. His whole body was tense. The vein on his neck beating rapidly and his fist was balled up tightly.

“Uh, did I say something?” McCree asked, his words slurred.

“I came on behalf of your friends at Overwatch,” Hanzo gritted out, clearly dropping all his initial manners. The man was openly glaring at McCree now, not that McCree particularity cared.

McCree swallowed. “Who did you say?”

“You heard me the first time. I will not repeat it again.”

“Since when are you in association with Overwatch?”

“Since,” Hanzo sighed. “At my brother’s…invitation.”

“Genji?”

“I would rather not talk about it.”

“Of course.”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes at McCree. “They said you did not answer your recall.”

McCree took a sip of his drink, maybe he should ask for something stronger, like rubbing alcohol. “That’s right. Why did they send you?”

“I asked. They wanted to know why you won’t answer the recall or their other attempts at contacting you.”

“Not important. They agree?”

“It took some convincing. I need to know, it is why I came.”

“Listen, sweetheart,” McCree leaned on his elbow. “I’m not answering the recall, so how about I buy you a drink and we talk about something else?”

Hanzo frowned. “I – ”

“I know you don’t give a rat’s ass about why I don’t what to go back. They sent you to convince me, and sorry for being rude, but why would I listen to you? We’re strangers.”

Hanzo did not reply to that. He stared at McCree for a long, quiet moment.

And then: “You don’t remember me, do you?”

McCree blinked. Once, twice. Slowly.

“Huh?” he said.

Hanzo sighed. “We’ve met once…you stopped a robbery in a ramen shop. I assisted you.”

“Ramen shop?” McCree’s mind turned slowly. How was he supposed to remember a robbery at the top of his head? He had stopped so many…

But Hanzo’s word, “I assisted you.” A man’s image came to mind. Sort of punk-rock style, McCree guessed. Honestly, he hasn’t got a clue of what was the trend half of the time. The man at the ramen shop, already carrying a bag from a bakery shop. It was almost Christmas, or close to Christmas – almost exactly one year from now than –

“Hanamura?” McCree asked. Hanzo nodded.

The man was wearing a dark jacket. He disarmed a robber that was trying to hit McCree from behind. McCree remembered thinking: _Dang, that’s one nice right hook you got there, and such pretty eyes…_

The man helped him and stayed with him to calm the shop owner, but left before the cops came. Jesse never got his name.

The man was carrying a quiver with arrows in it.

McCree’s eyes snapped wind and awake as Hanzo rolled his eyes across from him.

“It was you!” McCree exclaimed. The bartender and some other customers looked over at them. “It was you!”

“Yes, it was,” Hanzo did not look happy. McCree wondered if Hanzo had recognized him right away, and was angry McCree did not?

“Well, ain’t this a pleasant surprise,” McCree threw his head back to laugh. “Now I really have to buy you a drink.”

“I would much prefer you come with me.”

“No can do, Hanzo,” McCree leaned across the table. Hanzo didn’t lean back to put distance between him and McCree. The archer’s pretty brown eyes looked almost completely black in the dim bar. “I ain’t going back to Overwatch, it should have stayed dead.”

Hanzo didn’t say anything. McCree took the chance to run his fingers through the hair above Hanzo’s temples. Hanzo let out a startled noise and snapped away at the sudden contact.

“What do you think you are doing?” he barked.

“Just wondering what happened to your…y’know,” McCree gestured to the side of his head. He remembered that the man (Hanzo, McCree got his name now) shaved those parts of his hair off, and: “You also had piercings, they’re gone?”

“Those were not real. It was part of the disguise,” Hanzo snapped and combed through his hair with his own fingers, smoothing them down. McCree chuckled at that.

Christmas songs started to play from the speakers as the nighttime arrived. McCree spared a moment to listen: _Won’t be the same dear, if you’re not here with me…_

“It’s a small world, ain’t it?” McCree said without turning back to look at Hanzo. From the corner of his eyes, he could that see Hanzo shifted in his seat.

“Indeed.”

“Sorry you had to come all this way for nothing.”

“I would not say it was for nothing.”

McCree turned.

Hanzo held his gaze. McCree couldn’t help but smile, a real one – been a while since he did that.

“They want you back, Jesse McCree,” Hanzo said. “If not for your skills, then just for your company.”

Hanzo waved for the bartender to come, and smiled at Jesse. “If I have to spend Christmas here to convince you, then so be it.”

McCree laughed. Watched Hanzo ordered a glass of whiskey. They raised their glasses to each other, the clang rang loudly in the quiet bar.

“I like to see you try,” McCree tipped his hat at Hanzo, and downed his drink.


	5. Young Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Five: Young Love  
> aka The Most Popular Girls in School au no one asked for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone watched The Most Popular Girls in School series of Youtube, but if you haven't, this one is gonna be incredibly confusing to read. It would look incredibly *dumb* if you don’t know the humor/premises from the series 
> 
> MPGIS is about high school hierarchy, that the dramas has been exaggerated 10000x times over and where every student is an asshole. So if you decide to read this complete self indulgent dumb (i mean like ????what the fuck?? dumb) fic, please prepared to be confused 
> 
> Also, I know Amrican hs don't have shooting club or maybe even student council, these are more like Japanese club culture stuff. So if you don't like bug in facts, maybe this isn't for you (bc this is full of bugs and logic problems lol)

“Dude, did you hear? Jamison almost blew up the lab last period.”

Hana popped her gum. “That’s nice. Why is this new?”

Her friends laughed. “McCree was with him.”

Hana sighed. “Oh, fantastic. Is Jamison dead now? Did Hanzo order hitmen to kill him?”

“Almost…but someone told him that McCree was good friend with Junkrat, so I think he’ll be fine,” the girls giggled, and moved on to other gossips that Hana wasn’t concerned about.

Hana didn’t really like Hanzo. He was the one that hurt Genji when they were young. The one that took over the student council after Jack and Gabriel left, that meant he was also the one that control how many hours and equipments each club have. Each club leader had to report to him, and that included Hana.

She didn’t like it, because even Hana had to succumb to the rules of _high school_. So Hana did what she must for the smooth operation of her club.  

One of the things every club leader, or really, every student had to remember was: If you still want your social life, you best not mess with Jesse McCree.

This was arguably a very recent rule, only almost a year old, compare with other rules like: you can’t use the third floor bathroom without having your request form approved by the cheer squad first. The hipsters have full control of the teacher’s lounge on Thursday afternoon. And that students of this school were not allowed to go to malls in other high school’s territory before asking the student council first.

Rule DMWM (Don’t mess with McCree, as Hana calls it), may be new, but was one of the most important rules, since their dear student council president’s crush for the wannabe cowboy was still very strong.

_Very strong._

Not that people messed with McCree a lot to begin with. McCree was actually one of the most well-liked student around the school. He might not fit in with the popular crowd, because he was actually _nice_. Most students liked him.

But that never stopped teenagers. There was always something high schoolers could find to hate on. And McCree, with all his sunshine smile and southern charm still couldn’t manage to get away completely. McCree’s cowboy fascination was something classmates could easily use against him.

Hana remembered an incident, where a girl insulted McCree during lunch time in front of everyone.

And _everyone_ included Hanzo.

The girl transferred immediately the following Friday. Hana never found out what happened to her.

McCree, of course (bless his soul), didn’t know it was Hanzo’s doing – Hanzo made sure of it. Satya, who took over the co-president’s position, had once told Hana that she was getting concerned at the number of things she had to deal with because of McCree…

Wait, what was Hana talking about again?

Junkrat, right. He almost blew McCree up, and Hanzo nearly had his head for it. Luckily that someone informed Hanzo that Jamison was quite a good friend of McCree’s, and McCree would definitely get sad if anything happened to Jamison.

Junkrat clearly missed the memo of the golden rule of DMWM, or he looked at it upside-down, or he burned it, not knowing he needed that if he wanted to survive this school.

Hana sighed. She should tell Mako to keep an eye on Jamison at least for today, just in case Hanzo didn’t completely let it go, which was very likely.

．．．．．

Satya looked at the form in her hand, and looked back at the student council president.

“Hanzo,” she started, but couldn’t finish.

“What?”

“This is a horrible idea.”

“No, it’s not.”

“This is just your way of trying to spend time with McCree.”

“No, it’s – ” Hanzo flushed angrily and snatched the paper back to himself. “It’s a perfectly good idea.”

“You want to have McCree join the council, and have him run for prom king. If that’s not stupid, I really don’t know what is.”

“We need someone on our side to win the prom titles.”

“Prom kings’ statues is nothing compared to prom queens.”

“And I’ve worked out an agreement with the captain of the cheer squad, who we all know would win. If McCree runs with her – ”

“All this for you to have the courage to talk to your crush?”

“All this to not let the hipsters take over the school,” Hanzo gritted out. “They are running for prom king and queen this year, and if they win – ”

“But you were so sure the cheer squad would win,” Satya pointed out.

“ – The school’s social pyramid will topple, and in no time the other schools will –”

“Hanzo.”

“Come and ruin everything, you really think the cheerleaders and the football team could handle all this?”

“Hanzo.”

“What?”

A sigh. “Do you want me to go with you to ask McCree?”

Pause.

“… Please.”

．．．．．

“You want me to do what?” McCree gaped at the two people in front of him.

“Hanzo – I mean,” Satya corrected herself when she could practically feel the glare Hanzo was giving her, “the student council would like to ask you assist us in our…business.”

“By running for the prom king,” McCree said blankly.

“Yes.”

“With the student council and the cheer squad.”

“Correct.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well,” Hanzo pipped up from behind Satya, and Satya knew Hanzo finally worked up enough guts to talk to McCree. She stepped aside. “If you help us, we will give you permission to use extra bullets in the shooting range during practice.”

“Whoa, you can do that?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t that be unfair to the other students?” McCree asked. Hanzo almost melted at that, Satya could tell. For someone who was crowned the mega bitch of the school, Hanzo sure did have a thing for nice boys with kind hearts.

Or maybe he just has a thing for McCree (probably more likely).

“Other students didn’t do anything for the student council to warrant privilege.”

“Well…”

“This is a simple proposal, McCree. Do you agree, or not?”

McCree’s eyes wandered. He was weighing the pros and cons of helping and not helping. Satya already knows the result. The massive pressure of getting into school drama and social wars between two popular groups outweighed the merit of having some extra bullets during practice. Any person with no other calculation would refuse. It wouldn’t be worth the trouble.

Hanzo knew this, Satya knew this. Hanzo was tense with the gigantic possibility of McCree saying no.   

There was a reason other than the deal wasn’t a good one to begin with, the one that made Satya told Hanzo it was a bad idea. Because she wanted to stop encouraging Hanzo making stupid decisions because of McCree.

Normally, Hanzo wouldn’t outright ask McCree to join in on the “plan” (drama), so Satya never had to worry about Hanzo getting his mind fogged up even more by McCree. Since there was something Satya knew and Hanzo didn’t.

McCree _would_ agree to whatever Hanzo asked him to. Because these two dumbasses were crushing for each other.

This was going to end in a mess, Satya just knows it. McCree was only pretending to consider the offer.

And then – he agreed. Much to Hanzo’s surprise and not much to Satya’s.

She shook her head as she watched Hanzo and McCree hiding their excitements. This was going to be a long year…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the prompt was young love, the first thing I thought of was teenage romance, where the person you crushes on seems like the most IMPORTANT person in the whole world, and you will do anything for them, no matter how stupid and exaggerated this feeling was. The classic "but i love him! I would do anything for him!" thing
> 
> Hanzo crushes on McCree so much that he is like "hurt him and I'll ruin your life here" bc he's gotta be a drama queen like that if he was in a high school drama scenario, while McCree is just like: I like him so if there's a chance for me to spend time with him I'll take it


	6. Ultimate Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is consequence for using a power with another media

Hanzo felt like his skin was burning off, one dragon scale at a time. He grabbed his tattooed arm, and immediately snapped away with a loud hiss.

Though his hiss was almost inaudible in the after roar of his dragons, but Hanzo doubt McCree would hear him even if there was no distant roars, the man froze on the spot from the event that just took place.

“Okay,” McCree said, to himself or to Hanzo? Hanzo couldn’t tell through his pain. “Okay, okay, what the hell. I didn’t know you could do that. I feel like there’s something crawling under my skin, is that normal?”

Hanzo didn’t have the energy to tell him yes, nor the energy to tell McCree he was seconds away from passing out.

He could still feel the anguish of forcibly releasing his dragons from such a condensed space that of a gun barrel, all the heat and power trapped in a single bullet instead of an open arrow or the shaft of a sword. The energy it took Hanzo to pass his dragon to McCree, and from McCree to his gun, he hadn’t thought it would be as painful as getting devoured by his own dragons.

Hanzo’s head felt like it was splitting in halves. He could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. His visions dotted with black spots around the edges.

“McCree,” he managed to croak out, but the man didn’t hear him.

McCree’s teethes clattered. Dizzy. He could feel a headache coming up.

“God-dammit, Hanzo. You really saved our skin there,” McCree tried to move his legs, it was prickling painfully like it had fallen asleep for hours. He slowly turned around. McCree laughed, “but I think I’ll need a minute to recover – ”

And McCree saw Hanzo kneeling on the ground. The archer’s forehead touching the dirt road. His tattoo was emitting  _ smoke _ , like it was during up from the inside.

Was Hanzo even breathing?

McCree rushed to Hanzo’s side, practically falling on the ground next to Hanzo.

McCree flipped Hanzo around and let the archer lay in his arms. Hanzo cried out from the sudden movement, his face scrunched up in pain.

“Shit! Sorry. M’ sorry!” McCree let out a relieved sigh. Hanzo’s head lolled onto McCree’s chest plate, breathing ragged. His arm dropped at his side like a puppet limb that got its string cut.

McCree carefully reached out his palm to touch it. His metal hand met searing skin.

Hanzo let out a soft sigh at the cool metal hand caressing his burning skin, but the metal quickly heated up from Hanzo’s skin and McCree had to move away.

Hanzo’s skin was showing no sign of cooling, and any attempts of McCree trying to get Hanzo to talk proved futile. But McCree just hope to keep the man conscious.

“Stay with me, Hanzo, they’re coming soon.” McCree wiped at the drying dirt on Hanzo’s forehead. He massaged Hanzo’s temples with his free hand while the other held the man closer. “The kid’s music is gonna make you feel better, okay? Just a little bit longer…”

“We are never doing that again,” Hanzo murmured, surprising McCree. The gunslinger choked out a laugh, grasping onto the Hanzo’s word desperately.

“Never,” McCree agreed.  


	7. Holiday Season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feature crying McCree and Hanzo, if that's too OOC for you, beware!!

This was a horrible idea to begin with, why did he think it was going to be romantic?

McCree hid his face behind the menu. Hanzo was asking the waiter the wine collections they offered. The food looked delicious, the alcohol selection had everything McCree would want, but McCree just really wanted to go home.

He had thought this was going to be a nice, romantic dinner date, since Hanzo wouldn’t be with him on Christmas day.

Or the two months after Christmas.

And if McCree couldn’t spend Christmas with his sweetheart – well, what’s better than having a good old-fashion candlelit dinner at a good restaurant? Ain’t it a good way to spend their last night in a long time together?

McCree wanted to punch himself now.

“Jesse,” Hanzo’s voice called softly. “Are you ready? The waiter wants to take your order.”

“Ah, uh,” McCree coughed, hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he was swallowing back tears seconds ago. “I’ll have the Apple Duck, please and thank you.”

Hanzo didn’t say anything more. He sipped his wine while McCree stared at the tablecloth. McCree didn’t dare look at Hanzo, he was afraid that if he did – things would get really embarrassing for the both of us.

The food came.

They ate.

McCree tried to say something, but the words got choked in his throat, so he stuffed some potato in his mouth.

Hanzo started on the topic of a book he was reading, but stopped after a three sentences.

Their second course came, and McCree couldn’t take it anymore. He could feel the tightening of his throat every single time he tried to talk. Every time he looked at Hanzo, Hanzo was looking back straight at him. They would hold gaze, and not say a word.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” McCree got up and forced a smile. “I need to use to washroom.”

Hanzo nodded. McCree’s face turned into a grimace as soon as his face was away.

He slipped into an empty stall and sat on the toilet. Face in his hands as tears ran freely down.  

“This is an awful date,” McCree murmured into his hands, tasting the tears. _God dammit, how was he going to survive the whole night without breaking down again –_

McCree sniffled in the stall, stopping every time someone came in. After a while McCree had to will himself to stop because he has been in here for too long, also if he continued to cry, it would be too hard to hide his red eyes.

McCree washed his face and dried it with a million tissues. Checked his face over a few times before deciding that Hanzo _maybe_ wouldn’t notice McCree was crying like he wasn’t a grown-ass man –

Not that Hanzo seemed to have the chance to notice, as soon as McCree got back, Hanzo excused himself to the bathroom as well.

McCree downed his own whiskey and the rest of Hanzo’s wine, and asked the waiter to fill them up again.

“Romantic Christmas Eve’s dinner, huh?” the waiter asked with a polite smile as he filled their drinks up. McCree just nodded with a fake smile, lips against his balled up fists.

Hanzo was gone for an awfully long time. McCree was secretly thankful for it. It gave him more time to calm himself and prepare for the rest of the night.

That was until, Hanzo came back.

Hanzo sat down across from him. Looking as cool and calm as ever, but McCree’s attention was on the slight puffiness of Hanzo’s eyes, and the little red around the rims. And McCree realized.

“Oh, sweetheart,” McCree stared wide eyes. All the preparation he gave himself gone in an instant. Suddenly teary again. “I'm gonna miss you so much.”  
  
Hanzo slowly looked up at McCree. Hanzo’s eyes snapped to his partner’s teary eyes, and Hanzo’s face scrunched up in a scowl. His eyes shines in the candle fire.  
  
“Do you want to just go home?” McCree asked, his chest hurting. “Lord, I can’t keep this up anymore – I just – I just want to hold you until you have to leave –”

A tear ran down McCree’s cheek. Hanzo cupped McCree’s face.

“Yes,” Hanzo said. Chocked, low and teary. “Let’s go home.”  
  
The waiter came and saw an empty table, tips thrown on it as if left in a hurry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for all the ones that can't spend Christmas with the people they want. Merry Christmas everyone.


End file.
